


Interview

by kandinskian



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Angst, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-03-25 10:00:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3806284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kandinskian/pseuds/kandinskian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clexa Fashion AU</p><p>Lexa, Anya's protégée, is debuting her new collection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> follow me @  
> kandinskian.tumblr.com
> 
> (attached to this au will be occasional graphics related to the magazine and mixes so there's that)

          Fingers start grazing Lexa’s lips, slowly pulling her bottom lip and dropping to the edge of her chin. Costia rubs her nose into the left side of her chin, finally taking her lip between her own. Lexa hasn’t had an use for alarms for two years now. This is her morning call. She doesn’t open her eyes before she turns to Costia, lacing her fingers through her girlfriend’s and keeping her hand in the crook of neck, pressing into it.

          ‘I take it we have work today.’ She murmurs, snaking her legs between Costia’s.

          Yes, they do. Costia only wakes her up whenever they have appointments. Otherwise, she sleeps well into the afternoon. Costia has been trying to get her 9 hours of sleep ever since they started dating. She was so accustomed to her eyebags, the first time she looked in the mirror and actually looked rested, she almost didn’t recognise herself.

          ‘Why would I be waking you up otherwise?’ Costia says while smiling into their kiss, running her free hand through Lexa’s hair. Her soft hair that she only lets down at home, her smooth curls that Costia always plays with.

          ‘Because you simply can’t resist it anymore and have to?’

          ‘Oh, do you want to go there? Or do we have to remember what happened at the last fitting?’, by the time Costia was halfway done, Lexa already had a hand under her shirt, running up her back and slightly scratching the skin.

          ‘I had to measure you precisely.’

          ‘If you think your tongue is the most precise ruler, I don’t have one clue how you became a designer.’

          ‘Lots of imagination.’

          Costia laughs at that, taking in all of Lexa’s morning sloppiness, shaking her head and pulling Lexa’s hand out because if she gave into it right now, Lexa would run them late. She knows exactly how much imagination Lexa has, but she also knows that Anya is coming soon and prefers her to have limited knowledge of said imagination.

          ‘Yeah, put it to work then because you have the editorial today. I need you to use your wit for their questions, not your cheesy one liners. I’m sure you will still have plenty afterwards.’ She pinched Lexa’s abdomen, pecked her nose and rolled out of bed, taking full advantage of her position and giving Lexa a peek at her strut. Oh yeah, Lexa will definitely have plenty left afterwards. Lexa rolls on her back, smiles to herself with her eyes closed, with an arm hung from her forehead.

          By the time Lexa actually gets out of bed, she made the coffee and fixed a quick omelette for all three of them. Lexa is fresh out of the shower when Anya lets herself in, removing her heels and coat. She looks tense and searches the loft for Lexa, turning to Costia in the other side of the loft.

          ‘She’s not already dressed?’

          Yes, Anya is tensed. She has been tensed ever since Lexa started working on her collection. She heads towards Costia who is already waiting for her embrace and shaking her head, amused. She huffs and laughs as she wraps her arms around Costia, who by the way, isn’t dressed either.

          ‘Can’t you play the mom role with me today? I need you to keep her on track. Although, I guess it’s good she remembered that she has to shower. Not yell at some poor intern and have the whole apartment filled with material.’

          Anya was dressed casually. Her idea of casual anyway, which involves a dark blue cashmere dress, a black coat and black stilettos, because she has killer legs and honestly, Costia can’t remember when she has seen Anya wear pants. They have a running theory that Anya has half of her blanket cut off. Anya sits on their barstools, which she constantly complains about. She reaches directly for the coffee, taking the fork with her left hand. Costia is convinced that at this point, both Anya and Lexa depend on her to eat. Coffee is another story. They bleed caffeine.

          ‘How are you feeling? Ready for the interview?’

          ‘Yeah, I’m actually looking forward to it. It’s with this Octavia girl, she’s actually Bellamy’s sister? So I trust her to not be an asshole. I mean, not more than he is anyway. Acceptable asshole.’ Costia leans against the counter with the coffee mug in her hands. She is genuinely relaxed. She and Bellamy are signed to the same agency and remembers talking to him about how his sister actually helped him get through a dark period when he was harassed.

          ‘Blake, right? I remember him. Mostly from the headlines. And despite the controversy, I am actually glad Lexa decided to do the editorial with this magazine. Now the only thing left is Lexa actually showing up. I’ve taught her better than this.’, Anya says as she is chewing and Costia can’t help but smile throughout the entire morning. Anya, who talks so much about proper conduct sure is always acting a bit childish. You couldn’t tell by the way they both work, their perfect postures and eloquent vocabularies and straight faces (Costia has seen 3000 pieces puzzles easier to solve than their composed, work expressions), but come Monopoly Night with pizza, now that’s another story. Sloppily talking and curses flying left and right, egos hurt and rage quits, those are Costia’s favourite nights. They should have one soon, especially with all the tension, between all three of them due to Lexa’s show being just around the corner.

          ‘Chew and then talk.’

          ‘Oh, now you want to play the mom role? Go get dressed, I cannot believe you.’ Anya throws a piece of bread that Costia dodges. She leaves her mug next to the sink, leaning in as if to pinch Anya, but she has her index finger raised and an expression which means that Costia is definitely having her hand slapped if she reaches. As she heads upstairs, Lexa passes her, in her pink pastel cashmere sweater tugged into equally pink pastel pants with her hair tied up. Costia turns and whistles after.

          ‘Now you whistle.’, her words come out sultry, but she doesn’t turn and she’s biting into her bottom lip because Anya is about to lecture her. But if Costia has gotten her to eat, that’s usually enough of a distraction. Yes, she is eating thankfully.

          ‘Maybe leave at least bread for me, too. You’d think that you could at least afford to eat. Living as a major designer is rough nowadays, man.’ Lexa sits across from her, dragging the plate in front of her, but mainly focusing on the coffee. The pastel cyan one that Costia got her. Extra large.

          ‘You’ve talked about revealing too much with Costia, right?’ She doesn’t look up. Her tone isn’t entertaining anymore. They’ve already had this conversation. Many times. Too many.

          ‘I can’t not give this to her. It’s the only thing she actually wants. To be honest and open and warm. You’ve seen her talk about how kids need someone like that, how she needed someone like that. And how much she just wants to talk about it, about us.’

          Now Anya is staring at her, frowning.

          ‘She can talk about it with us, her family, the crew. The people that aren’t profiting over her joy and that aren’t exploiting it for headlines. She needs to understand this already. They do not care for her.’ Lexa has dropped from her cloud now, they are back to their work selves, the concentrated, ferocious selves.

          ‘I am not arguing with her over it anymore. I am not making her cry anymore. I am not leading her to believe that I am ashamed or god knows, you know she has told me that she thinks I don’t even love her at times. No, they don’t care. But I don’t know how…’ Now it’s just starting to sound like Lexa’s thoughts. She put down the mug so she could rub the sides of her head, staring into a corner of the countertop. Anya reaches for one of her hands, making Lexa look at her.

          ‘I understand.’

          Costia breaks the tension with her singing, it’s a song by Blood Orange. Yeah, it’s Champagne Coast. Lexa recognises it because she sang it to her a week ago when they went out drinking and Costia accused her of being too much of a power bottom. She is the one dressed actually casual, with a pair of skinny black jeans, white t-shirt tugged in and a denim jacket in her hand. Lexa looks over Anya’s shoulder, her face lit by a smile. Anya and Costia would have the sit down with the girls from The Anarkists at a coffee shop, dropping Lexa first at the location for the editorial.

          ‘Let’s go, bitches. Otherwise we’ll all be late.’ She spun around on the staircase handle and pointed a finger at Anya. ‘Yes, even you, MOM.’ She laughed it off and went straight for Lexa’s extended hand, waiting for her by the countertop. She kissed Lexa’s cheek and gestured towards the door. Anya grabbed them by their shoulders and squeezed them.

          ‘They won’t know what hit them.’

* * *

 

          Yesterday, I had the opportunity to have a sit down with Anacostia Taiwo and Anya H in a Tribeca coffee shop and talk about their relationship to up and coming designer Alexandria Woods and their involvement in the Nuclear Heart collection.

          Anacostia, the Australian fashion model, is known best for her work with AH. We have seen her on the catwalk now twice for A.H., for F/W '13 collection and S/S '14 at NYFW. Her whimsical and brightly coloured outfit worn after the show caught our eye back then and we knew from her attitude and energy that she was headed for great things. It wasn’t a month until she was announced as the face for Dries Von Noten. But at the beginning of this year, A.H.’s famed protégée, Alexandria Woods broke the news of her project.

          “Yes, at last, we convinced Lexa that it is time. Her apartment had sketches taped over everything. Don’t look at me like I am kidding. She had sketches on her milk carton. Which was expired by the way.” The model joked, “But all cutesy things aside, she has a strong sense of individuality and high-end style.”

          “The handmade quality has a touch of futurism that she does amazingly. I have already pointed it out in other collections we have worked together on. It is an interesting thing, seeing her in charge and really bringing herself into the work. The atmosphere at the atelier is electrifying and that’s all Lexa. Even when she stays there for days at a time.” A.H. commented, having Anacostia replying to her with a familiarity that is endearing to actually see. “Please, she is like that only when I visit. I saw you two from a distance, all gloomy and broody as if you’re making war plans, not sporty, but dressy outwear. You wouldn’t believe how serious they get. It’s not until I come with board games and food, force them to relax, that they become like that. But sure, keep your masks on, the both of you.” At this point, the designer was laughing and poking at the model’s side and it’s hard to ignore such a comradeship, since most times, A.H. seemed austere and stoic. “Listen, I know you didn’t invite us out here to talk like that. I could just buy you a dictionary and underline the words I know Anya would use and just piece them together. You invited us out here because you want to actually have a conversation.” You have to excuse me, I was a bit taken back by the level of sincerity and overwhelming warmth that Anacostia was exhibiting. “First of all, yes, we are a couple. Me and Lexa have been together for two years and we met through Anya, which has been mentoring me, too. But she has me playing the baddie role way too often. Yes, we’re deeply in love and no, we haven’t been hiding. We just weren’t as public. You have to excuse these artistic types.” Despite the openness with which I was met by Anacostia, due to personal events, I know what not to ask, even when we have the opportunity to get an answer. “Look, I understand what these comments mean. I know the rough patch [Bellamy Blake] has gone through and he wasn’t even in such a ‘controversial’ position. But at some point, someone has to take a stand, mainly because I felt like this wasn’t possible? You know? Because no one spoke about it openly and I had a dilemma on my hands when I had all these feelings and didn’t quite know how to handle it, what it meant for my career. Even now, I know people are saying that I don’t deserve this spot and that I slept my way to it, but those people would say that if they didn’t know. You know how much I’ve worked, all the runways and the campaigns, the readers know, too. I deserve that spot and I am the actual best match. You’ll see it, I can’t wait for you to see the show. God, the level of production on Lexa’s hand. She is an artist, no one can question it. And I’m not supposed to give anything away, Anya, don’t look at me like that, I only want to say that I can’t believe this is her first collection because it feels like her tenth. It is so individual and complex and nuanced, and she definitely has enough material thrown aside that it feels like this is her tenth.”

          The model retreated into her seat after her burst out, still smiling and pretending to yawn because A.H. was preparing to talk, another rare moment that melted my heart. “Alexandria was a difficult child growing up, nothing to do with her being an orphan. She was a smart ass and already had the designer attitude. I learnt that she had talent by coming one day home and having the walls of the living room turned into a look-book. Mind you, she was 13. She knew what she was doing. Her excuse was that she couldn’t find papers and the bills looked like they had cheap paper. She doesn’t do cheap paper. So you see, from that point on, I started working with her, teaching her all that I knew and have her snotty ass correct me. I’m over the moon with excitement that she is doing her own collection right now and not messing up my concepts.” The 29 year old designer laughed and looked like she was close to tears. “This is definitely a master-piece. We want her to just get enough sleep at this point. It is done. It is perfect. And we are excited to have you on our front row.”

          “Hopefully, we will talk to you even after you post the critique.” And on that light note, we ended the lunch date and our magazine is enthusiastic, not to say extremely pumped, for the show. A small peek was offered to us by Alexandria Woods herself in the editorial. And by the looks of it, none of the things said by Anacostia Taiwo and Anya H are subjective.

* * *

 

          ‘Okay, it’s 2:17 am. You’re tuned in with your main man, Thom Hindletorp. This song is going to keep-‘, the sound of the radio was drowned out by the last pull on the metallic door, the atelier finally empty. Only Anya and Lexa were left. Lexa pulled her eyeglasses off and hung them on her shirt’s collar, dimming the lights. She leaned down and grabbed one of the unopened bottles sitting by the edge of table along with two plastic cups. Today was more about tying loose ends and entertaining certain people, not so much of the strict, absorbing work etiquette. Enough to give her headaches and to drain her. She dragged herself down to where Anya had settled, hands rubbing the sides of her head. Yeah, she wasn’t the only one drained. A spectacle twice a year is one thing, having your atelier, the sanctified space, invaded by these vampires is another. She passed Anya a cup and started working on the corkscrew. They had a window cracked the city was not very empathic of their mood. Blended with the radio though, perfect mixture for a background noise that wasn’t going to add to Lexa’s increasing buzzing in the back of her head.

          ‘I liked this better when you were the only dealing with all this bullshit.’ Anya snorted, shook her head and hit the plastic cup against the bottle.

          ‘I liked it when I had better company. Pour, Woods.’ Lexa looked at her as if insulted and poured herself a cup first. Cross legged, they hit their plastic cups together, toasting.

          ‘Cheers, ass.’

          Lexa’s phone vibrated. She sat the cup aside, having to raise herself and pull it out of her back pocket. Of course it was her, she beat it to the serenading drunk part. The serenading depends on what they’re drinking and by the looks of it, Costia is having cocktails.

_wonder woman (2:24 am): my god_   
_wonder woman (2:24 am): I swear whenever u have work_   
_wonder woman (2:25 am): the best songs come on_   
_wonder woman (2:25 am): like_   
_wonder woman (2:25 am): bABY ARE U FEELING ME FEELING U_   
_wonder woman (2:26 am): AND I WANT TO FEEL U FEELING ME_   
_wonder woman (2:27 am): LIKE_   
_raccoon face (2:28 am): like that time I bent you over the sink at queens_   
_raccoon face (2:29 am): like that time I had you taste yourself on the dance floor_   
_wonder woman (2:30 am): YES LIKE THAT_   
_raccoon face (2:31 am): yeah_   
_raccoon face (2:31 am): NEXT TIME WHEN YOU WON’T DITCH ME_   
_wonder woman (2:31 am): RUDE_

          ‘You know, you are actually rude. First of all, don’t give Costia blue ovaries. Secondly, you have been texting for a while now, do you even know how to converse anymore?’ Anya was pouring herself a third glass at this point, pulling her shoes off.

          ‘Yeah, but it’s fun. Especially since she didn’t want to come. She won’t come.’

          ‘Dear god, that was terrible, don’t you dare feel proud of that. You aren’t even through a glass. That is not excusable.’

          Lexa put the phone aside. She wasn’t proud of it, but her smirk was still there. Spread all over her face as she sipped her wine.

          ‘How long until she shows up?’

          ‘Oh, don’t worry. She’ll be here at around 6 or 7, she’ll pull my shirt a bit, mumble some Drake lyrics and fall asleep on my lap. She’ll only wake me and then force me to remain still until she wakes up. She might trap us both on the floor.’

          They both laughed, toasted again and Anya’s cup tipped over a bit, but it fell between them.

          ‘You might be the one to actually trap me on the floor. God, you’re already drunk.’

          ‘And you’ll thank me because no one is getting up to close that window. So I’ll be your blanket until Costia comes. I am saving your life here, Woods.’

          ‘Oh, but imagine the headlines. Death by the sniffles. I would take that headline over the ones I’ve been seeing recently.’ Lexa was staring in the cup, the jokes fell flat rapidly. Anya bumped herself closer, into the small wine pool, but she didn’t even notice it. She took Lexa’s hand into hers, laced their fingers together and squeezed them.

          ‘Lexa, look at me. What’s happening?’ Anya was slightly leaning into her.

          ‘I keep thinking. That Bellamy guy, how he was harassed. After one goddamn interview. And the whole aftermath. Anya, I don’t… I’ve seen…’ She pushed her lips in, dragging her fingertips along Anya’s knuckles, pulling at the skin. Anya waited, let her gather herself.

          ‘I mean, Costia has seen it and she says she doesn’t care, that it’s nothing, it’s what happens and whatever. That I shouldn’t worry either. But she barely said anything and they’re already pulling headlines on her, ridiculous, hateful ones. And the goddamn comments and just general response. The fucking interview is barely out? I don’t really know how to react and I’ve seen her look things up. I turned off her notifications.’ Lexa raised her head, searched Anya’s eyes for some sort of answer, one that maybe she couldn’t verbalise. One that maybe denied her worries, brushed them off. This is the industry, everyone gets this. That you just go with it and it doesn’t affect you. But Anya was resembling her own face. She gave no comfort and reassurance. That’s when the grip on her hand tightened.

          ‘Costia is not that kid. And even that kid, as bad as it got, he pulled through it. You know that the interviewer was his sister, right? They’ve talked off record a bit, and yes, I’ve seen what’s online. You don’t look at that stuff. You stay away from that shit. It’s toxic. It’s not real. You hear me?’ She waited until Lexa nodded in approval, but her eyes were wandering, she was drifting off. Another hard squeeze. ‘Lexa.’ She wasn’t sure if Anya believed it herself. She knew before she had said anything. That was what she saw.  
         ‘We’ll go Kanye on them. You’ve seen me throw punches before and don’t think I don’t remember that thing in Amsterdam.’ Lexa pulled a finger to her lips and leaned her forehead against Anya’s.

          ‘Shush, we don’t talk about that. Especially since you know I can do that.’ They broke in laughter, intoxicating laughter. Anya let go of her hand and bent over Lexa to reach for the bottle. While Anya was strategically placing the cups between her spread legs, trying to pour. It doesn’t count as a failure because she poured too much, at least she managed to fill them.

          _raccoon face (3:47 am): I love you._

 

 

 

          _wonder woman (3:53 am): I love you._

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Costia and Lincoln prepare for a Paris work trip; the girls prepare the next issue of The Anarkists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> additional content @ kandinskian.tumblr.com

          'You're smoking again,' said Lincoln, more matter of fact than questioning. He didn't doubt it, he knows Lexa’s routines. 'It's not that that bothers me, it's the fact that you're doing such a bad job at hiding it that it's insulting. Just bring out the pack and smoke.'

          They were out for coffee, at least that's what Lexa had told him. She was more out of groceries and their elevator had broken down. But looking at them, you couldn't tell these were people that actually bought their own tomatoes. Perfectly ironed clothes, Lincoln in his black shirt and grey pants, perfectly rolled up at the end, clean shaved and with his Prada glasses on, Lexa mirroring him to perfection, only that the chromatic scheme was inverted. It was a freaky thing, if you didn't know them and how they had this scheme of colours that they always wore around each other. Lexa looked at him unamused, rather more stressed. She hadn't touched her coffee yet. Finally, she took the golden Sobranie's out and put one between her lips.

          'I'm worrying and working myself into an early grave, what do you expect,' she mumbled through her smoke. Small bright yellow Bic, yeah, she had just bought them. 'Have you packed? I keep forgetting when you guys are leaving because Costia has been doing an awful lot of going out and sleeping through the days and I can't tell days or weeks apart because I'm still in lockdown with Anya. I packed a bag for her just a couple of days ago, at 3 in the morning because she wasn't answering and I didn't have anything better to do. Plus, Anya was finally sleeping and you're you, god knows what you are doing at 3 AM.' Lincoln threw his hand over the table and grabbed the pack, took a cigarette for himself. 'We leave at 5AM.'

          Lexa had her head propped against her left palm, nodding absently. 'It's fine, I took out her passport, I can call right now at a hotel, the tickets are at the office, I think.'

          'I have them, don't worry. And the reservations, I made them a week ago. Listen, I'm going to talk to her, alright?'

          Lexa snorted and took another drag out of her cigarette. 'You're going to get punched, you know that. Leave it, I'm dealing with it at home. It's not that bad. She's just going out more, I mean, all of her friends are going out and what is she supposed to do anyways? Watch me sow and bicker with Anya over textiles? No, it's understandable.' Lexa was actually trying to convince herself, with ration, logic, but this wasn't exactly a time of ration. Over the past two weeks, online media outlets were posting all sorts of nasty things and a couple of nights ago, they actually found Costia with a few friends out and filmed her. So Costia wasn't exactly herself. And she wasn't the type not to mention at the very least when she's leaving, not to take care of things before. So Lexa was coping and trying to help her through it, make it easier for her.

          'Yeah, I know that, Lexa. But...' She took Lincoln's hand in her own and squeezed it over the table, putting out the cigarette with the other one. 'I think maybe I should start going out with her or something. Get to know those girls.'

          'Get to know them, huh? That's what is called nowadays?' The mood lightened a little and they both laughed at that. 'Don't fuck up your sister's friendships. But what you could do is help me bring groceries home. Cook something maybe.'

          'There it is. I knew it. How long have you been eating take out?'

          'Insufferably long. Really, I need your pasta in my life, like right now.'

          'Get the goddamn check already.'

 

* * *

 

          Lexa pushed the metallic door and stepped in, bags on both hands and Lincoln behind her carrying even more. Okay, so maybe she went a little overboard. Like "having a bacchanal" type of overboard. There was enough for a feast. She slipped out of her shoes and pushed them aside  
perfectly, darting Costia's, thrown on the hallway. She pushed those too back in place.

          'Every goddamn time. Let's just put these on the counter.'

          Lincoln followed her after taking off his shoes in the same manner. Everyone but Costia was exquisitely organized, it was a pain on all of them the way Costia treated her things, but amusing to her. At this point, she had to be doing it on purpose. They left all the bags in the kitchen and went up the stairs. With all the silence, they figured she was still sleeping.

          'Oh, the little prick hasn't moved, has she? Come here.'

          Lincoln took Lexa in his arms, snickering to each other. Lexa pretended to have fainted and laid limp in his arms. Lincoln rushed to the bed, concerned and alarmed.

          'COSTIA, WAKE UP. LEXA. HELP ME WITH LEXA.'

          'What- Lex-'

          Costia, who was sleeping on her abdomen, drooling on the pillows in nothing but boxers and a white tank top, woke up shaken and when she wanted to turn and stand, she fell flat on her face on the floor. That's when Lexa and Lincoln bursted out laughing, throwing Lexa on the bed where she had to grab at her sides.

          'Assholes. Both of you.'

          Costia was getting up, arm resting on the side of the bed and eyeing her. She still looked half asleep with her messy hair and last night's makeup still on.

          'I expected this from you, but you too? Oh, you're getting it.'

          She climbed up on top of Lexa, tickling at her sides and making her go full blown red with tears in her eyes. Lincoln took her by the waist and pushed her gently off Lexa. She curled up instantly, legs up and blocking her abdomen, hands all over the place trying to push Lincoln away. Lexa joined immediately.

          'Stop, stop, st- THIS ISN'T FAIR.'

          They stopped and fell on the bed, side by side. Lincoln turned on his side, propping himself up with his elbow and taking Costia's nose between his fingers.

          'Yes, it is. It's payback.'

          Lexa slapped away his hand, reaching over Costia to pinch his chest.

          'Not the face. She needs it to support us. My bread winner, come here.'

          She took her by the sides of her face, brushing her thumbs over her cheeks and giving her a small kiss before turning back to Lincoln.

          'Or are you jealous that she turned out to be the prettier and smarter one?'

          'Oh, I see. No problem, I can do it to you.'

          As she started reaching for Lexa's nose, Costia raised herself in order to stop him, smiling to her ears. Lexa was poking out her tongue at him and provoking him.

          'I didn't even have my coffee yet, stoooop.'

          They laid there for a few more moments, laughing and getting themselves together. Costia turned to Lincoln, taking his jaw in her hand and squeezing it, pushing his cheeks and lips together.

          'What are you even doing here? I don't want to see you yet. I'm gonna spend way too much time with you.'

          'Hands off, mouse. I came here to save you from the damned life. I'm here to cook. And yeah, better believe I'm gonna be up your ass. You didn't even pack.'

          'Because the last time I did, Lexa got pissed for taking clothes that were 'too revealing'…'

          'The only problem was that I wasn't there to be the one to reveal them to.'

          '...and she has already packed it for me,' she said, turning back to Lexa to make a face at her for interrupting her. 'And for once, I wanted to let your ass to deal with reservations and planes.'

          'Fair enough. Okay, time to get up.'

          Lincoln pushed himself up and took Costia by her hand and dragged her up, too, as she dramatically reached for Lexa and mouthing "my love" to her. Lexa smirked at her and blew a kiss. She looked over in a corner where Costia had thrown her clothes, got up and put them on up on hangers.

          Back in the kitchen, Costia and Lincoln were working on putting the groceries in place, on unison. When Lexa came down, hair pulled up, in an oversized t-shirt and shorts, Lincoln had poured them a glass of wine and started preparing the pasta.

          'Is someone actually calling Anya or does your freaky mental connection actually work?' He hit Lexa's waist with his own, smirking at Costia. 'I'm feeding the whole clan at once, I can't do separate home calls.'

          'No, she gets this weird tingling in the back of her head when I'm eating or drinking wine. She'll show within the hour.'

          'But when you stop bullshitting me, you can text her to buy some chewing gum.'

          'Oh my god, you smoked.'

          Costia threw a crumpled napkin at Lincoln, which he dodged.

          'Who are seeing? Who are you ditching us for?' Costia narrowed her eyes, settling her chin on her palms.

          'Shush, it's only a maybe.'

          'It's not a maybe. And you're the one giving Lexa crap about bullshitting.'

          'Stop bickering, start chopping up the damn garlic. I'm hungry.'

          'Tell Anya about the chewing gum.'

          'Fine. I'm telling her.'

* * *

 

          Clarke woke up at Raven's, on her couch with Octavia drooling on top of her. Raven was the one on the floor, clutching a pillow. It was halfway into the morning.

          'O, you gotta move,' Clarke said as she was playing gently with her hair, trying to wake her up. She tried for a minute before she pinched her. 'I'm not ruining Raven's couch right now, I can't afford to pay for a new one again. Move.'

          'Move already. Just go and stop talking.' She slipped on the side, waiting for Clarke to glide off. 'Don't step on her, don't dare wake her.'

          Lucky thing she had told her, otherwise her foot would've gone straight on Raven's side. The house was a mess, glasses all over the place, the vodka bottle they brought over from the club. On the dining table all of their phones were bright. Messages, calls, most likely from the magazine, goddamn Mandy always asking about everything. She took hers and looked through the messages. Can she publish this, talk about that, notifications about stupid things some girls did, a video of a drunk model. She called Mandy from the toilet.

          'You're going to talk slowly and quietly, I have a headache.'

          'So a lot of things kinda happened last night and I wanted to know if I can talk about them on the website?'

          'I saw. No, we're not gossiping, okay? You can talk about they were wearing. There was that group, I think, of models? Yeah, I liked what they were wearing. I think one of them had the pair of A.H., the exclusives? Talk about that. If I see one gossip, you're done. Also, did you book me the London tickets? And made the reservations? I have that, um, campaign coming up. Remind me.'

          'I did, you're all settled. And got it. Good eye, she was wearing the A.H. pair that we saw at the interview. I loved them. Didn't we get a sample, too?'

          'O. got the sample, god knows how. She was apparently very sweet.' Clarke snorted, leaning her forehead on her arm.

          'Okay. I'm writing up something, I'll send it to you to read it. By the way, someone called about a music video in Milan of some sorts, I didn't understand because it was half in Italian. A behind the scenes for a men's collection. Yeah, I'm looking at the note now, it's the one with Bellamy.'

          'Approve it. Get me the tickets for that, too.'

'You can go directly from London. Do you want to stay a day or two there or go beforehand?'

          'I'll go before. Let Marc know I'm coming.'

          'Done. Kisses.'

          'Bye, Mandy.'

          Clarke took her time, showered and borrowed from Raven's. God, so much black. By the time she made it back to the living room, all freshened up, Raven switched the pillow for Octavia. She decided to let them sleep it off and get the trash. She had a killer headache and bits of memories. But she did have a vivid image of them grinding on each other to Drip Drop, piggy riding Octavia on the streets and Raven drunk calling Bellamy to pick on him at some point. Her other messages were from some annoying guy and she gave her drunk self a nod for not calling or returning any of the messages. In the kitchen she washed all of the dishes and made coffee. By Clarke's standards those are soup quantities and got some take out from the Chinese restaurant from the corner. A couple of hours later it was time to wake them up.

          Clarke climbed on top of them, holding their nostrils together.

          'Enough already.'

          Raven flailed her arms around, trying to hit her. She finally opened her eyes, forcefully.

          'I hate you.'

          'Yes, but on the other side, I made coffee.'

          'At least.'

          'Go clean yourself.' She kissed Raven's cheek and pushed her until she got up and left. Octavia wasn't going to be that easy to deal with.

          'I could get you fired,' she said, still on top of Octavia, hands on her arms and squeezing them.

          'No, you can't. I'm an owner.'

          'But I can give you shit work.'

          'No, you can't. I pick my own work.'

          'But Mandy books everything and she's afraid of me.'

          'No, she likes you. But I terrify her.'

          'What if I smooch you?'

          'What if I punch you?'

          Clarke had had enough of her, rolled off and grabbed her by her legs. Before Octavia could realise, she had her off her the couch and on her ass. When Octavia caught Clarke's eye, she ran, she down right sprinted away. But Octavia followed her and pinned her down on Raven's bed, pinching her sides hard, forcing Raven to come out of the shower, towel wrapped around her and water dripping from her hair because Clarke was actually screaming in pain.

          'Oh my god, fucking leave her.' Raven went and kicked Octavia in the leg. 'Go shower or drink coffee.' She mumbled something to herself and left for the shower. Raven dropped the towel and started looking for something to wear. Clarke straightened herself, pulled her legs together and slightly crooked her head.

          'Looking good, Reyes. Real good.'

          Raven flipped her off and pulled on the closest shorts and t-shirt.

          'Hit me, Griffin. Let's see what you're into this week.'

          She dropped on the bed, on her back, propping on her head on Clarke's lap and looking upwards at her.

          'Actually, I have this Mykki Blanco line stuck in my head, it's not even funny. I aggressively like this line.'

          'Oh, this is going to be good.'

          And then, Clarke proceeded to deliver it in the whitest way possible, but Raven thought it was actually cute, the way Clarke’s face twists around trying to look dangerous. She doesn’t, she looks like she’s having a stroke.

          'See it in her eyes, cats want to play. Let me roll a dice, see what I can lay. Haze, boo-'

          Raven squeezed her thigh and buried her head deeper into Clarke's lap, laughing into it.

          'STOP. That's horrible. Oh my god, that's horrible.'

          She was clutching onto Clarke's t-shirt, laughing into the exposed skin of her abdomen.

          'How do you even get laid?'

          'You know how.'

          Octavia stepped into the room, more annoyed than before, wiping her hair. She just made a face at them and turned her back, started to look for clothes to wear. Raven would have to do laundry today or tomorrow in this rhythm.

          'How do you both get laid, is the question. You should just hook up and be done with it, especially if stops Clarke doing that.'

          Raven hooked her arm around Clarke's neck, propped herself against her and pulled off her seductive face.

          'Oh, but if we do that, then we'd be having all this hot sex and we wouldn't want you around to ruin the fun.'

          Clarke joined in, snaked a leg around Raven's and grabbed her side.

          'And we'd have revenge sex on your desk, hate fuck in your office.'

          'I'm not in the mood,' she said as she left the room, going to change in the bathroom. Clarke shouted after her. 'That's because you're not getting laid either.'

          'What did you get?'

          'Chinese.'

          'Coffee?'

          'You can drinks bowls of it.'

          'Let me get the laptops and let's get to work. We need to update it tonight, plus we have that layout to work out, right?'

          'Yes. And I got approval to talk about that next campaign and O can put up some behind the scenes content.'

          Raven got up and Clarke went to the kitchen where Octavia had a mug in her hand, her mouth stuffed already, phone in her other hand, looking through her mails.

          'Did you see it?'

          'Yeah, I saw it.'

          'Mandy wanted to run with it. I said no.'

          'Of course you did.'

          'Bellamy is doing that Prada thing, right?'

          'Yeah. It’s coming up soon. In a month or so, I think.'

          'You do know who is also doing it, confirmed? Lincoln Taiwo. I need Bellamy to talk to him and get him to do an interview with us. The intimate type, the type that you do with someone whom you can trust, after a video like that. Get him to do it with you. We’re not running the gossip, obviously, nothing on the video, but if we can get the one on one with him, especially after that shoot they’re doing in Paris, we’re going to get hits.'

          'On it.'

          Raven came in with the laptops and set them in front of each of them.

          'Don’t help or anything.'

          'You’re doing just fine,' said Clarke, already powering it up, setting her coffee aside and pulling out her phone and going through her mails.

          'Send me what you got on the layout, think of a placement for O’s behind the scenes, not too upfront, not too hidden. Nothing on the cover, visible on the first page.'

          From that point on, their weekend was turning into a regular work day.

* * *

 

_mop hair (10:47 pm): are you guys done?_

_ms. fix it all (10:53 pm): Battling the princess of fonts as per usual. You?_

_mop hair (10:55 pm): i’ve got food and free time._

_ms. fix it all (10:56 pm): COME._

 

          While Raven was texting Bellamy, Octavia and Clarke were in a fight over a 2px placement.

          'Listen to me, this is horrendous. Just move it there, a bit to the right.'

          'Clarke, step away from me and shut up about it because I am this close to actually punching you right now. This is my goddamn column, I will place it wherever I see fit. I will put it in the middle. Don’t make me put it in the middle.'

          'Fine, fine,' Clarke threw her arms up and took a step back because O has been like this all day and from the looks of it, she is not kidding this time. She cannot take a punch before London. But god was it annoying her. If only she moved it just a bit to the right, it would be perfect.

          'Bellamy is coming, just please shut it off, we are already done. Call Jasper, tell him to post his column online. Get Monty to do the whole 5 miles on all social media about those goddamn shoes, today preferably.'

          Raven went over to O’s side, hugging her from behind and leaning her head against O’s.

          'Don’t be a piss baby, please. Just punch her once and be done with it.'

          'Do no encourage her.'

          Clarke was on the opposite side, her eyes widened and her finger put up while they were eyeing her, smirks spread across their faces.

          'I can hold her and you can go all mafia on her.'

          'Not funny.'

* * *

 

 

          Lincoln made sure to get a room with two beds, which wasn’t exactly Costia’s idealistic situation. But they did have big white oak doors separating them, with locks. Costia threw her luggage on the side and herself on the bed.

          'Please don’t bring girls back here.'

          'Oh, don’t worry, neither of us is going out.'

          She raised herself half way to stare at him.

          'What do you mean neither? I don’t know about you, but I have a few invitations to some parties that I feel like really can’t miss.'

          'You will,' Lincoln came over to her bed, sat next to her and looked her directly in the eyes so she doesn’t misunderstand him. 'I know.'

          Her jaw tensed and she was now sitting straight, but she still tried.

          'Know what.'

          'You can bullshit Lexa, you can even bullshit Anya. But don’t even try. You forget we do the same line of work, that we run in the same circles,' he rubbed his right nostril to gesture it to her. He knew.

          'I never said anything about you. I trust you.'

          He took a deep breath, bit down on his bottom lip, looked over to the right for a second.

          'You shouldn’t. I shouldn’t trust you either.'

          'But you do.'

          'But I do.'

          There a moment of silence, they weren’t looking at each other. And when Costia spoke, she looked anywhere but in a direction that Lincoln could even catch her eye.

          'What now?'

          'Now you and me have a quiet nice weekend, do the photo shoot, visit a goddamn museum, buy some clothes, drink wine on the Seine. Look at me.' Lincoln’s every muscle seemed so tense they could actually rupture from the pressure. He wasn’t budging his eyes now.

          'And then, you stop going out every goddamn night. You stop giving Lexa reasons to worry, because she is. You won’t destroy this relationship like I did mine. She will think that you cheating. It does look like it in that awful video, Costia. You saw Lexa. She’s smoking again, she pours herself a glass whenever she can, she isn’t even speaking to Anya about it. I talked to Anya because she downright confronted me. She’ll come directly to you next time. Hide a bit, from the paparazzi especially. You don’t want Lexa going through your things and find it. She will. She won’t believe a word you say from that point on. Anya will seal you off without a doubt.'

          Costia swallowed audibly, looked ashamed at the floor and she was rubbing her hands together. She finally nodded, but didn’t say a word beyond that. Lincoln got up and just gestured towards the door, to go out and eat something. She took her jacket and followed him.

* * *

           _raccoon face (11:35 pm): tell me you had a better day than me_

_wonder woman (11:37 pm): nothing is even remotely close to good without you. not even bearable._

_raccoon face (11:38 pm): you’re just saying that because no one is ironing your shit_

_wonder woman (11:40 pm): stop. I miss you. tell me about your day._

_raccoon face (11:44 pm): i miss you, too._

_wonder woman (11:44 pm): Lexa_

_wonder woman (11:44 pm): talk to me_

_wonder woman (11:45 pm): tell me what’s wrong_

_raccoon face (11:47 pm): i just want you back home, that’s all. I did some promotional shit. and came back home and the empty bed isn’t fun the goddamn silence isn’t fun. and then i saw the goddamn pictures you're obviously having fun out there with lincoln and those girls idk i feel like shit and i am tired and exhausted_

_wonder woman (11:50 pm): it was a stupid after party and lincoln really wanted to get laid, you know. The breakup was really shitty. He’s going through a ’manly man’ phase. I had to be there for him. You know I’d rather be there, with you._

_wonder woman (11:51 pm): book a flight. come._

_wonder woman (11:52 pm): let’s take two days off at least._

_wonder woman (11:53 pm): just us. you’re stressing yourself out._

_raccoon face (12:04 am): i’ll be there tomorrow afternoon._

_wonder woman (12:05 am): i’ll be the girl with the giant sign._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick note, you can listen to the show mix here: https://8tracks.com/ambahurd/nuclear-heart
> 
> also, the bellamy scene is a flashback.
> 
> (you should also follow me on tumblr @ kandinskian for additional content)

    “You’ve checked the damn lights already. Seven times. Only this morning. Let me take you out, so the sun can check you.” Anya was sitting in the middle of the runway on a chair, latte in her left hand and phone in the right one. At this point, she had downloaded almost every little game that could entertain her for 20 minutes before it would annoy her. Lexa was still inspecting the lights, the smoke machines, making sure everything was lined up and prepared. It was coming down to the last few days before the show and she was turning manic.

  
    “Fine, if I hear you complaining anymore I am going to stroke out anyway.” She started messing through her hair, rubbing her temples and spinning around, not really looking at anything. “Even if something is broken, I don’t think I can tell anymore. I think I forgot how to count. Maybe I should see if my prescription is still good.”

  
    “Yeah, you’ve most likely fucked up your eyesight more in this last week than you have when I got you that first PlayStation.”

  
    “Are you still bitter that I am better than you at Mortal Kombat?”

  
    “Stop changing your memories to fit you better, you know damn well who is better at it. Grab your jacket already.”

    Anya got up from the chair. She killed her phone’s battery, but maybe that was for the better. She was thinking about finally talking to Lexa, without being interrupted by some intern who somehow managed to ruin the one thing they weren’t even supposed to be around. But she wasn’t sure about it, Lexa was already stressed to the point she thought she saw white hair, but was it from the how or… Maybe she shouldn’t, it isn’t her place. She didn’t wait for Lexa, she caught up with her when she was out the building, looking for a cab.

  
    “You know that part of us going together is me actually being present, right?”

  
    “Don’t even try, you know that if I had waited, it would have taken you an extra 30 minutes. Look at you, being here in under 5.”

  
    “You know, it’s a miracle that I could even tell where the door was and managed to come out at all.”

  
    “Yes, I’ve noticed.”She didn’t look back at Lexa, even though she could feel her eyes on her as she was getting into a cab, avoiding her rapidly and talking to driver. But she knew Lexa could wait it out.

  
    It wasn’t until half into their lunch, after all of the work talk and appointments and confirmations that Lexa brought it up.

  
    “I need to know what you think.”

  
    “I already told you, you should put track 3 at the beginning. Also switch up 12 with 8, it makes sense, the chromatic arrangement works better.” Anya was staring into her coffee or at people passing by, anywhere but at Lexa.

  
    “Not about that.”

  
    “Then about what?”

  
    “You know.”

  
    “So we can argue more and you can insult me? You know, I can go without your 3 am call to apologize, you and I know that what we think. And you already have enough on your mind, you put half of it at least on mine, too.”

  
    But Lexa was still focused on her and there wasn’t any fire in her this time, she didn’t have the usual cloud of denial, the rage with which she defended and tried to convince her that it was just something they were misunderstanding.

  
    “Something is going on. And I don’t… know what. Or how to handle it. She won’t talk. She just…”

  
    “Maybe you should pull her out of the show.” Anya had turned fully towards her, hands on the table and slightly leaning in. She didn’t know either what should be done or said. Not anything that would fix it anyway. She only knew how to push people away.

  
    “I can’t do that. Not that. It would create even more buzz and it would be even more aggressive than it is right now. She would only go out even more. I don’t… she’d…” Lexa’s jaw was locked, muscles tensing. The ache in the front of her head was getting worse, that’s all it did. For weeks now. Since before Paris.

  
    “We don’t even know what exactly is going on. You know that no one will say, but that only means it’s something that would influence her career. But I don’t think she’s cheating, Lexa. She wouldn’t.”

  
    “I don’t know anymore, do you understand? It’s been months and it’s just going downhill and I keep thinking, if we get through this goddamn show, we can take some months off for ourselves, go somewhere. Have you noticed Lincoln has been in town way too often?”

  
    “Yes, I have. It’s not work either.”

  
    Lexa bit the inside of her cheek, took a moment to reflect on it and when she finally met Anya’s eyes, she was closed off again. She couldn’t think about it, because she couldn’t do anything. She didn’t even know what she was supposed to fix. If she could muscle through it, not upset Costia further and keep it together, be done with the show, she already looked at some houses she could rent on the Côte d'Azur.

  
    “Tell me you have seen the Demarchelier shots, with,” Lexa was gesturing with her right hand, trying to place an actress’ name and bringing her cup of coffee to her mouth with the other, and Anya snapped hers.  
    “Yes, Campbell.”

  
    Lexa mirrored Anya’s finger snapping and immediately took put the cup away. “That’s the one.”

 

* * *

  
  
    Costia was on the balcony, in her fluffiest cardigan and shorts, with knee socks, singing to herself and watering the flowers. She barely remembered it was her turn and she didn’t want to give Lexa anything to pick on and start another argument. It startled hear when she heard a loud thump, especially since Lexa wasn’t supposed to be there, she would be home well after 7. She poked her head down the stairs.

  
    “Lexa, you’re early?”

  
    But the voice that replied was not hers. It was rugged and well-articulated, no, perfectly. Formal tone.

  
    “No, my love. It’s me, I’ve come earlier than expected.”

  
    She was already going through the kitchen, her phone was plugged in to charge.

  
    “Mom, how are you even here? The door…” Costia came down hesitantly. Fortunately, it wasn’t out of character that she wasn’t over ecstatic and running to hug her.

  
    “The neighbour from 6 was coming in and he held the door for me.” Indra was pulling out her laptop, checking her e-mails. Costia was a bit relieved she was busy, she wasn’t feeling in the right mood to answer her interrogatory in this particular moment. Or maybe she was, maybe she needed it.

  
    “Why didn’t you call? I could’ve come to pick you up. I need to call Lexa.” She settled on the chair on the opposite side of the counter, pulling at the cardigan and settling further into it.

  
    “Because you don’t have a car, it’s the same thing. Let Lexa deal with her work, she’s in over her head probably.”

  
    “Yeah, but…”

  
    Indra looked up at her and smiled lovingly, she appreciated it, as she always did. It was just in her nature to take care of herself, not bother anyone. Much of that was very present in Costia and Lincoln.

  
    “Don’t worry about it, you can carry my bags when we go shopping, if you want to carry something.”

  
    “Oh no, I am not falling for that. What are you working on anyway? Which senator is stealing from us or cheating on his wife with an intern?” Costia almost got up on the counter trying to peak her Indra’s laptop, she was apparently spell checking, which she does to pass time because Indra never misspells.

  
    “Actually, it’s a commentary on grand jury abuses that led to a wrongful conviction and other egregious problems in the legal and immigration systems. It’s almost as long as the column they did on your outfit from last Friday. How could you wear those shoes, honey?” Indra caught Coostia’s nose between her fingers, squeezing a little and laughing with her.

  
    “Stop, mom. My feet hurt,” Costia pushed her hand away and went back to sitting properly, settling her head on her left hand. “Why are you even reading that trash?”

  
    “Because the headlines lately have been mostly your name,” she gestured for Costia to hold it because she wasn’t done, head tilted slightly and eyes widened. “And I know we haven’t talked about, really talked about it, but if you need to, I am here. I am here to sue them, I am here for whatever you need. They are profiting off your image, they could potentially affect your career, your mental state and your relationship. I read it.”

  
    “Please, don’t worry. It’s what happens, we already knew it would. Me and Lincoln regularly bet on how the headline would look, what they would pick on, before I even do anything.”

  
    “That still doesn’t make it fine.”

  
    “No, but it’s whatever. I’m dealing with it.”

  
    “Oh, you are,” she wasn’t about to leave it, because the number of things written about her was exponentially rising by the week and it was getting worse. It was despicable. No matter what she did, with which respectable magazine she was talking, no matter the project she was on, it just kept coming. “How are you and Lexa doing?”

  
    “We’re just fine. She bought even more flowers, she’s stressed out about the show, you know.” Costia was pulling at her cardigan, not looking at Indra much.

  
    “You haven’t been seen together, your instagrams haven’t been as active, she is always spotted during the day and you at night. Before you can say anything, you need to remember that I am a journalist.” They shared a smile for a moment and it was nice, Costia definitely missed it. But she already let her see too much through her, this was something she was handling internally. She needed to.

  
    “Well, then you must know Lexa has been hold up at her atelier for months now and when she was finally done with that, she started working on setting up the location. Do I need to go into specifics because it honestly tires me out just thinking about it. I avoid going there as much as I can, I’ve seen Anya’s eye bags. And mom, I have friends. I go out. I can’t drag her out with me, now can I? Oh, I cannot wait for her to come and be upset at you that you didn’t call. Not even now to say you’re here. You know how much she loves you.”

  
    “And she knows how much I know she loves surprises. Let her resolve whatever she has going and then when she comes, it will relax her. By the way, do you know if Anya is coming?”

  
    “If they aren’t tired of one another, she will. It depends on how long it took them to actually go out to eat. You should’ve seen it. At first, they were ordering in, but then Lexa had a freak out because apparently Anya’s crumbs were probably going to affect someone’s sitting posture or stick to a heel and make someone fall. I found it funny, Anya wanted to punch her. That’s why Lexa gets spotted, otherwise they would’ve considered her a missing person. She spends almost every waking moment making sure everything is in order.”

 

* * *

 

  
_"Is everything set up?" Clarke was searching the room rapidly with her eyes, doing a check-up. The fourth one. In the studio, the cameras were set up and ready, the lights had been perfectly adjusted, the food and the drinks were good. Wells stepped behind her and squeezed her shoulder, smiling softly at her. Lately, he was the only one capable of calming her down. When the news of Bellamy broke out, the magazine was just getting traction and starting to get a good name. It was stressful for all of them, this interview was supposed to clear everything. It wasn't all that important for them anymore, the magazine, as was Bellamy's state, the constant harassment he was going through and opening up like this, being this honest, this sincere... This was what the girls were trying to avoid, exposing him even more. It was Bellamy's call and if they didn't want to do it, he would have gone to another magazine. That's what pushed Octavia over the edge and they accepted. But they couldn't do it themselves, that wasn't the point of it, to seem that the whole thing is manufactured. Wells offered and he was considered to be one of the crueler ones at the magazine, he could ask any question. He was the one to do it. But the interviewer would get their own share of backlash. The amount of pressure falling on Clarke was getting to her, she couldn't protect them and now she was pushing them even further into it._

  
_“Listen to me, we've discussed this. Over and over again. This is the only way to do it. You need to have a little faith.” Wells' voice was soothing, he was relaxed._

  
_“Are you sure this is legally cleared?”_

  
_“Yes, Clarke. My dad looked into it, you already know this.”_

  
_Raven had done their outfits, Bellamy in a simple white t-shirt with trousers, a light shade of pink. It worked with his tan, his hair a bit messy, it worked with his personality and it needed to make him seem likeable, it needed to make you want to understand his struggle and where he was coming from. Monty was on stand-by, ready to do the photo shoot afterwards. They were pushing for the cleanest look possible, not trying to make it seem as tragic or as dramatic as the others were trying to, because truthfully, none of them felt it was like that. Especially Bellamy. For Wells, she got a pastel blue shirt, three buttons opened, black trousers folded at the end, but she couldn't get him to wear the shoes she had picked, he had a thing for his. She let him have it, they worked. The old windows painted white in the background, the plants in the background, the comfortable chairs and the way the boys were extremely familiar with one another, it was all designed to end it. Before it could damage their careers permanently._

  
_“Everyone that isn't needed has to leave.” Wells looked at the girls, especially at Octavia. “It will work out, trust me. O? Look at me, it will be fine. Now go, I've heard rumors that Anya's girl is working on something. See what you can find out, we need to run it first.” Octavia nodded at him, gave Bellamy a last look and loosened up when he was as bright as the sun, smiling at her confidently. Clarke was still clutching her dossier, mumbling something to Monty about the lights. Monty was patient with her, never crossing the line, even though he could have. Raven came behind her, took her hand and dragged her after her. “Come on, princess. This isn't our day off and you're the only one putting me off, we have a deadline.” Octavia was the first to exit, Raven was still holding Clarke's hand and trying to get her attention. The technician crew took their places._

  
_“We'll do the interview as a subscriber exclusive and the behind the scenes as all-access, with a small segment.”_

  
_“Let's just do the hard part first, leave that for last so we can have some fun. Does that work for you, guys?” Monty was making final adjustments to the lights, poking his head from behind._

  
_“Yeah, yeah. That works out just fine.”_

  
_“The mikes are working, lights are ready. Let's roll.”_  
  
_“We're not here to dance around the subject, so I'm just going to get right into it. The prostitution rumors, lately they've been over every imaginable platform. Is there truth to it? The people coming out and saying those things, addresses, times, payment?” Wells crossed his legs, his head slightly tilted to the left and looking straight at Bellamy. Monty was on the camera focused on him, Murphy on Wells._

  
_“Yes, I was an escort.” The answer was given straight; Bellamy nodded and leaned back into this seat, trying not to play around with hands. He let his right hand and put the left one on his crossed legs._

  
_“The first question we need to address is why? Why would you do it in the first place?”_

_“By now, I'm expecting my whole family's history to be out there, but people forget it because this subject is so 'incendiary'. Because we became orphans when I was 2 months away from turning 18. I had been doing some light modeling, my sister was small. I was the one providing as it was, we were getting by. Our mother had mental issues that I would rather not detail, but it was hard and our expenses included taking care of her. So when it happened, I was facing some legal issues, my sister, Octavia, would have gone into foster care. But they didn't bat an eye at us when my sister was put into a private school, when she was dressed and clean and being fed. I was there, only very small occasions would I leave and that was so that no one would question how exactly we were doing so well. Three days away, at big name shows or doing high profile campaigns. Fortunately, they didn't exactly know how much I made and because the school never complained or raised any red flags about Octavia, we were off their radar.”_

  
_“How did you get into it? It seems rather fast and you were a minor.”_

  
_“Because I was doing it on the side, rarely, when our mother required hospitalization, special care, expensive treatments. This happens way more often than you would expect and I was in control of my situation because I was an U.S. citizen, they couldn't hold my documents over my head, threaten to have me deported or on the streets. Instead of paying so much attention on me, these magazines and 'journalists' could look into that, because it is a real issue. As a minor, I won't say that I was emotionally or physically taken advantage of. I chose my own clients.”_

  
_“That is a lot to process, for all of us. And you are right, it was only last month that another model spoke out on it, but it didn't get the attention it deserved. We addressed it, but the numbers show that the most hits we got were on everything regarding you, a person who hasn't been pressured into it. That's a commentary in itself, the fact that your outfit on Wednesday was more talked about and looked into than that.”_

  
_“I do not like the way this is stained not only my reputation, but all of ours. Rumors and over dramatizations of it are reaching the ears of your parents' employers; the credibility of this magazine is taking a hit.”_

  
_“Anything and everything that could hurt is used, we all know this. If something can ruin your competition, they're going to use it. But tell me, what are your thoughts on this type of service?”_

  
_“If there is request, there is a market. I am very amused at the headlines that claim I was selling my body, my soul, tainting my life with it. Why in this day and age it is still scrutinized, I don't understand. If structured, if there are safety nets created, at the end of the day, it gives a lot of people chances to succeed. I gave my sister every opportunity to do so, look where she is now. She was dressed in the best clothes, she was never mocked for being the lesser kid, I took her on amazing trips and opened the doors to culture for her, something that wasn't done for me. This is the world that we live in, this is how money works. The only thing that upsets them is that I didn't do it under their conditions, that I'm not some victim. This is something I chose to do, my choice. My own choice. It really bothers people how unapologetic I am, how unashamed I am. I will not bend my beliefs to fit theirs. I haven't even been doing it for over 2 years now, look at all the work that I have. It is coming out because of how big this magazine is getting, because of the opportunities I am getting.”_

  
_“I agree with you on that, this isn't the first time we have been attacked. Our editor's sexuality was scrutinized, our moral integrity has been questioned, although I will say that was an embarrassing thing because they were reaching. Every time that a more serious question is asked, discussed here, we somehow end up under fire. But talking about sexuality. A few of the people that claimed to have had intimate relationships with you are men. Where do you feel you stand? How would you define yourself in the sexual spectrum?”_

  
_“I'm terrible at terminologies, but I am all over the place. If I vibe with someone, I do. I don't feel like gender is a barrier for me, so that makes me bisexual, I guess. Right now, I am single. But that could change any day.”_

  
_“There have been incidents of you allegedly attacking photographers and getting aggressive on the streets. After everything that we have seen, it is evident you are feeling pressured.”_

  
_“I have been constantly harassed. My home addresses leaked three times already, in the past few months. I can't even sleep at my friends', I'm afraid I'll get stalked and their addressed get leaked, too. I have been sleeping in hotels, changing every other week or even sooner. They get so physical, really close to your face, pushing their cameras, blinding me with flashes and being extremely rude. I have been bottling up my emotions.”_

  
_“Now, there will be comments about this. That it was fabricated and cleaned up, questions about why you chose to do this sit down with us, so why did you?”_

  
_“Because everyone else has been profiting off my image and damaging my career, my name, my reputation. Why would I perpetuate it and go and fill their pockets with even more? No one else deserved this sit down. I will not talk to anyone else, be bullied for shock value alone and have outrageous statements thrown at me. Only 5 months ago, I was treated with respect, but now? All they want out of me is to say something scandalous they can market.”_

  
_“How do you feel your career has been affected by this? Is there a stigma following you, are you getting denied certain gigs?”_

  
_“I haven't been getting the same high profile jobs as before, but I did just sign on for a promotional CK campaign and I am in the works for another one that I cannot speak about at this time. I think because I am a man, the stigma will wear down, it will fade at some point. I think my improper reaction will follow me more. I know I should have acted differently, with more grace. But at the same time, I don't think I could have done any differently, because I was attacked at times that made it so I, don't know, I would give a reaction on which they could capitalize.”_

  
_“You're talking about the four incidents they caught you at late hours, intoxicated.”_

  
_“Yes, one of which was Octavia's birthday. They didn't put out the parts of the video were they were insulting my sister, making inappropriate comments about my friends, the part where they physically picked on them. Of course I reacted. I would describe all of this as traumatic, something that I couldn't say about the stigmatized situation in which I was caught.”_

  
_“Have you been seeing someone regarding it? What have you been experiencing?”_

  
_“A lot of anxiety, rage and depression. I have struggled- No, I am struggling with it all. And I have to admit that at times, I felt like I could slip so easily, that maybe I should. It has been mentally taking its toll on me, giving up my home because I had photographers on the hallways, waiting for me in the morning. And then when it leaked, now that was an experience. Having random strangers show up, vandalizing my car, my apartment door. I was honestly terrified someone would break in or I could get attacked or worse, someone I care for. I am seeing someone, I have a long road ahead, but my friends have been extremely supportive and understanding.”_

  
_“What do you think would have happened to you, if you didn't have these people around?”_

  
_“More like if I didn't have the courage of admitting I was going through something. Asking for help. It is a huge part and a hard thing to do. The mental pressure gets to you in so many ways and honestly, I would have probably fallen into the substance abuse side. You start believing what they're saying at a point, it's just everywhere and so much that you don't remember how you actually feel and who you are, because it is being shouted into your ear. How to feel, how to act. And as this is going on, you take on even more work. Because you can't fall off, so the exhaustion plays its part.”_

  
_“I hope that the others going through this have people around them, that they let them help.” Wells turned to Monty and signaled him to cut. Bellamy was worn out and his posture changed, his eyes were wandering._

  
_“Hey, we're done with this. Let's eat something, go out and have a smoke, I want to show you this album I found. We can do the other part whenever you feel ready.” Wells got up, walked past Bellamy and patted him on the shoulder. He went to Monty, leaned in and whispered in his ear. “Call them, tell them it's done and we have it all. Hopefully, this will end it or start to cool it down. Also, I need you to start doing the marketing for it, tonight. In the morning, we need to announce it. The sooner, the better. By the end of the week, the next issue is out and we need to build the buzz rapidly.”_  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  
    When Lexa got home, she was beyond being tired. She mechanically aligned her shoes, not even noticing the extra pair, put her blazer away and went straight to the couch. She covered her face with her arms.

  
    “Costia, are you home? Costia?”

  
    She came down, tea mug in her, sprinting to Lexa. She put the mug on the table and went to kiss Lexa, upside down, hands on her jaw.

  
    “Please say you made coffee and that's why you're so... I think I'm seeing double...”

  
    “Get up, you're being a rude hostess.”

  
    Lexa made a confused face and started pulling herself up, Costia was supporting herself with her arms on the side of the couch.

  
    “What are you-”

  
    That's when Indra came down, too, brightly smiling and with her arms opened.

  
    “You should have let her sleep, Costia.”

  
    Lexa jumped to her feet and nested into the crook of Indra's neck.

  
    “Why didn't anyone call me, I could have made reservations somewhere. Maybe it's not too late to get a table at-”

  
    “No, no, don't worry. We're making fries with eggs, settle in the living room and just talk. You're exhausted.”

  
    Indra took her by the sides of her face, stroking her cheeks with her thumbs. Lexa looked like she could drop on the spot and fall asleep. Indra looked over at Costia.

  
    “Who is being a rude hostess now? Go on. And you, go change. Make sure to come back.”

  
    Lexa yawned as she started taking off her earrings, unbuttoning her shirt halfway up the stairs. Indra followed Costia.  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  
    Late into the night, Lexa woke up suddenly. It took her a couple of seconds to realize where she was before turning to the either side and laying a hand on Costia’s side. She pulled up next to her, lightly threading her fingers through her hair. She was quiet, soft when she spoke.

  
    “You’re still here.”

  
    Costia had her arms wrapped around herself, she was on the edge of the bed. She was awake, too.

  
    “Surprisingly, right?”

  
    “Don’t.”

  
    Costia was chewing the inside of her cheek, pulling at her fingertips. Lexa had dropped her hand from her hair, she wanted to touch her, but only ended up grazing the lines of the back of her neck.

  
    “Turn around. Please.”

  
    “I’m not fighting you tonight.”

  
    “I don’t want to.”

  
    She backed away a little when Costia turned around, keeping her arms close to herself. Costia wasn’t really looking at her, in every other corner, edge, where she wouldn’t catch her eyes. Lexa was trying hard not to have her voice crack, the hard edge in Costia’s was tearing her apart. She wasn’t good at this, at distance.

  
    “Do you still want me to come to the Lang show?”

  
    “Yes.”

  
     After a moment had passed, one that seemed way too long, one that neither knew how to kill, Costia finally looked at her.

  
    “I need you there, okay? I can’t do them all and not have you there. You can miss one. The Public School, but you’ll be there for the others. You come.”

  
    At the edges of Lexa’s mouth was forming a smile, she was trying to hide it, before Costia could spot it, before this break was over.

  
    “You need to let me see the Diesel beforehand. I heard rumors.”

  
    “What if I told you I could sneak you into Vera?”

  
    “What if I told you I love you?”

  
    Costia bit into the inside of her cheek, she almost said something. She was trying not to provoke a fight. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This tension was never supposed to exist. She instead grabbed the end of Lexa’s shirt and pulled at it and started inching closer, pressing her forehead to Lexa’s and rubbing her nose against hers. She had to grab Lexa’s hands and put them on her, barely noticeable nodded and Lexa’s lips were on hers. And Lexa’s hands were on her.  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  
    The venue was prepared for the show, all the seats were in place, the lights were functioning properly, the sound was functioning. Lexa had developed her stage to be continuous, only front row seats. She wasn’t packing up the place, only the people that truly mattered were coming. Anya made sure of it. There was a significant distance between the pathway and the seats and the venue was immense. The ceiling was high, it was spacious. There were neon lights attached to the glass floor, there were lights hanging, splitting the pathway. In the corners, there were reflectors and they hit the center of the halfway point, creating a rectangular shape. It was only hours away now and Anya was massaging Lexa’s shoulders. Some photographers were there and soon, she’d be giving brief interviews. The models were getting started, so Costia wasn’t there to calm her down. She was standing in the middle of it, pushing her eyeglasses up and down her nose and thinking.

  
    “It’s going to be fine. It’s finally happening.”

  
    “It’s going to be amazing.”

  
    Anya swung an arm around her neck and dropped the other to the side, leaning slightly on her. She squeezed her shoulder, looking at her.

  
    “It’s going to be amazing.”

  
    Lexa turned to her, her eyeglasses on the tip of her nose.

  
    “It better be, this has been a bitch.”

  
    Anya pushed them back into place, let her arm fall and grab Lexa’s hand.

  
    “You’re needed backstage now. Let’s see what Costia is doing.”  
  
    She was in her seat with three hairdressers swirling around her, taking turns at her head. She was on her phone, reading a magazine. When Anya and Lexa showed up behind, everyone backed away. They could take 5 minutes off. Lexa stood against the table, facing Costia. She grabbed Lexa by her thigh and dragged her chair closer.

  
    “You’re good?”

  
    “I don’t feel like throwing up yet. In about an hour though, when people start showing up? We’ll talk then.”

  
    “Hopefully we won’t because you’ll actually be doing the damn interviews and taking pictures,” Anya was eyeing Lexa, arms crossed. “How about you, Cos? You’ve been working a lot lately. Are you okay? Ate? Rested?”

  
    “Yes, ma’am. Brushed my teeth, washed my face.”

  
    “Can you still count?”

  
    “I can even do basic math.”

  
    Lexa laughed and leaned down to kiss Costia, sweet and innocent.

  
    “You’re not cute. Break is over.”

  
    Lexa stole a kiss before leaving, whispering that she’ll find her later. Anya looked like she was on a warpath and as soon as they were far away from Costia, Lexa started mirroring her attitude. The crew that was doing the behind the scenes arrived.  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  
    The music started, first up was Costia, she was opening. Ten seconds had to pass. Everything was pitch black. When the beat dropped on the tenth second, Costia was gone, the cyan neon and the magenta were flashing briefly, rapidly, on her sides as she was walking the runway. She had almost twenty seconds to get halfway, white lights were breaking the pattern every other second. One beat before she hit the mark, the lights went out and the reflector fell on her as she was pulling off her leather blazer, holding it with her left hand. There were about 5 seconds were the cameras went crazy, capturing her in her stance, in her leather suit and leather bra fitted tightly around her, her fair sleeked down. For those couple of moments, the colored neon lights softly faded in, before the drums hit again and that was her mark to leave, another 20 seconds to get back, and the lights went back to the schizoid pattern, fitting in with the industrial neon setting. The next one was a pair, silk and leather suits and the neon lights were fading in from the bottom up. They moved in perfect synchronization, stopping halfway once again where the reflector had dropped precisely as they stopped, the lights behind cutting out instantly. Again, the flashes went insane, before they were done and gone. Everything was in pairs, except for Costia, who had three outfits to present. The beginning, the middle, the end. As she stepped backstage, the lights went out. Silence followed. Costia ran back to the other side, taking Lexa’s hand into hers and kissing her quickly.  
   

    “Chin up, keep the pace. Okay, let’s go. I love you.”

  
    A minute passed and as they were stepping out, the white light filled the room. Leading, were Costia and Lexa, Lexa on the right, their hands intertwined. No music. Everyone was standing up, clapping as they did the last tour. Costia kept her eye on Lexa, occasionally squeezing her hand so that she subtly nods to the right people. She kept Lexa’s hand from shaking with her tight hold, tapped the rhythm of their pace against her hand. They stopped on the right of the exit, Lexa on the far edge. They took the same stance, weight leaned on their right sides and their hands clasping each other, their heads threw out to the left. As the models passed, Costia followed, leaving Lexa behind to take a few steps in front. She stood there for a full moment before bowing down and turning around to leave. In the back, she found herself in Costia’s arms. Nothing about her said ‘attitude’ anymore, her muscles went numb. She could’ve been shaking and no one could because of how tightly Costia was holding her, running her hand through her hair and gripping into her back.

  
    “It’s over, it’s done. Breathe. It went perfectly. You’re okay. Breathe.”

  
    Her voice was soft, soothing. After a few moments, Lexa raised her head from the crook of Costia’s neck and she bursted laughing, pure bliss on her face. They actually did it.  It was done. And it went exactly how she wanted it to. Nothing malfunctioned, everybody hit their mark, and even she had done perfectly. Costia grabbed the sides of her face and sunk herself into Lexa’s ecstasy. They held onto each other until finally Anya grabbed Lexa’s shoulder.

    “It’s picture time. Press is waiting.”

  
    

* * *

 

  
  
    Costia was sitting on Lexa’s lap in the back of the limo, champagne glasses in their hands, Costia’s arm around her neck and singing into her ear, swaying their heads to the rhythm. Across from them, Anya and Lincoln were laughing over their glasses and opposite, a bunch of Costia’s friends were taking pictures. Only a bit after midnight, they were heading to the after party. They parked in the back and they tripped over each other getting out, Anya was holding Costia’s hands behind her back, Lexa and Lincoln were singing to each other, arms wrapped around each other’s necks. They spent the next few hours doing shots off each other, taking pictures, dancing with each other. The highest moment was when Anya grinded Lincoln and they all were singing ‘Shake that ass girl, make that coochie wet’ with Lincoln biting his fists until Costia wanted to top her off. Lexa and Lincoln hit their glasses and simultaneously did crosses on their chests. Later, Lincoln dragged Lexa out with him to smoke. She looked at him, barely keeping her balance until he took the cue to give her his jacket.

  
    “I could be cold, too. Why can’t you just bring your own?”

  
    “Because fashion.”

  
    “Riiiiiiight.”

  
    They leaned against the wall and passed the lighter to each other, blowing smoke in cascades.

  
    “If I fall right now, I’m not getting up.”

  
    “Don’t. None of us can carry you. We can’t even pull you up.”

  
    They exchanged stupid drunkenly looks and smoked cigarette after cigarette. Lexa was pulling at her bottom lip, trying to hold herself still. For all she knew, Lincoln was sleeping on his feet. After the fourth, she tried to push herself off the wall.

  
    “Where are you going?”

  
    “To look for Costia.”

  
    “Just leave her be. Stay here with me.”

  
    “Nooo. I want Costia.”

  
    “Send someone for me, I don’t think I can move.”

  
    “Maybe we’ll finally lose you.”

  
    “You don’t have that much luck.”

  
    Back in, she was pushing through people, barely making out faces. She couldn’t spot Costia, but Anya was in a corner with one of her friends and for the life of her, her eyes couldn’t tell where Anya ended and the other girl began. They looked more like fluid shapes of color smashing into each other. Some people tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t make out the words so she just smiled and pointed somewhere behind them and moved along. Some model wanted to take a picture with her, but she couldn’t take the bright phone screen. She just gestured a no with her hand and pushed her aside. She was making her way to the bathroom, because she couldn’t spot Costia anywhere, she was hard not to spot with her almost 2m and bright pink suit. So she had to be in the bathroom. She briefly remembered talking to Lincoln about something, but she couldn’t place it. Then she hit the door and couldn’t open it. Was it locked or was she too drunk to open it? No, it was definitely locked. She had a mini freak out and started banging on it. Too much had passed until it opened. Or maybe she thought it did, maybe it was only 30 seconds, but it did, a blonde girl, she definitely knew her, she was in all the pictures with Costia, she was in the show, walked out and in was only Costia fixing her makeup and her hair. She paused for a moment to try to think, but she was coming blank. No, that’s not what- It can’t be that. She reached for the side of her head and gently rubbed with the fingertips, eyes closed because the brightness was making her dizzier.

  
    “Why was the door locked?”

  
    Costia was way too aware, way too conscious. She was, wasn’t she? She didn’t mumble like her, she could hold herself steady, she looked a whole more focused and she was capable of doing complex gestures with her hands. The most Lexa could do was flail her arms around, maybe.

  
    “And why are you…?”

  
    But she wasn’t answering or looking at her, she was neurotically fixing her hair.

  
    “Were you and her- Were you fucking that girl?”

  
    That finally got her attention.

  
    “What?! No. What the fuck, Lexa.”

  
    But that wasn’t much of an explanation.

  
    “Okay, then why-”

  
    “We were talking about something private.”

  
    “And the subject was so… devastating that it messed up your hair or… Just tell me.”

  
    Finally, Costia turned to her and started moving towards her. She gripped Lexa by her jaw and made her look directly into her eyes. She looked drunk, the red eyes, but she wasn’t as uncoordinated. Maybe the buzz passed for her.

  
    “You can’t possibly think I would touch someone else like this.”

  
    She tipped Lexa’s head upwards, taking her bottom lip between hers, dragging her tongue across it.

  
    “Hold someone else like this.”

  
    She started backing Lexa up against the wall, the door wide open to their right. Lexa couldn’t quite move her hands like she wanted to, at best, all she could do was pull at Costia’s pants. Costia on the other hand was pushing her nail into her neck, sucking marks into it and spreading her legs apart with her other hand, not bothering to push it inside the dress and rubbing her with the fabric of it.

  
    “I would never. No one, there’s no one. But you.”  
        
  



End file.
